


Ray's Inuit Story

by vienna_waits



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_aprilfools, Drama, Gen, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-17
Updated: 2010-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 03:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienna_waits/pseuds/vienna_waits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking down the barrel of a gun, Ray Vecchio has to think fast...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ray's Inuit Story

"Any last thoughts?" Billy Baldwin sneers, cocking his gun.

"Yeah," Ray shoots back, "you're an ugly no-good loser, and even worse, you're about to get double-crossed by your so-called partners." He oozes defiance, even with his hands tied behind his back.

"The hell I will," Baldwin growls, and he's got the gun aimed square at Ray's face, but there's a hint of doubt in his voice.

"You really don't see it, do you?" Ray actually turns up the swagger a notch, working it for all he's worth--the best defense is a good offense. "Let me clue you in here. The key they gave you? Is either not going to open the box at all, OR you will open it and it will be empty, or maybe if they think you've got more brains than God gave an ant—which I myself kinda doubt—they'll fake you out with a bag of CZ or stick you with the very worst stones of the bunch. Happens all the time."

"CZ?" Baldwin echoes quizzically, completely ignoring the taunt, and now Ray knows he has him.

"Cubic zirconia," Ray says loftily. "I'm a cop, I know how this kinda thing goes down. There was this one bust," and he lowers his voice to its 'conspiratorial/confiding' setting, and sure enough, Baldwin's arm starts drooping and he's leaning in to hear, "back in '86, okay, picture this, Sam Malone and Rob Dobson head up a team to do the State Street diamond wholesalers office, right?"

"You busted Sam Malone and Rob Dobson?" The gun has come down about level with Ray's knees, and Baldwin's tone is almost admiring.

"Yeah," Ray says hurriedly, "and you know how we got 'em? Dobson's guys were going to give Malone and his bunch their cut in the trunk of a car parked on the South Side, only the key didn't fit the trunk. So Malone decides to take a sledgehammer to the car, a beat cop just happens to be passing by and nails him, and boom, Malone turns on Dobson and spills every—"

A red blur hits Baldwin squarely in the back of the head, and he goes down like a sack of rice. Fraser quickly disarms him and kneels to tie Baldwin's hands behind his back with his lanyard.

Ray expels a long sigh of irritated relief. "Jesus Christ, Benny, where the hell have you been? Here I am, desperately trying to channel one of your idiotic marathon stories about Eskimos and wolves and polar bears--"

"—I'm really terribly sorry, Ray—"

"—which is very hard to do by the way, and I'm doing my best Fraser-speak so I don't get shot in the face—"

"—I'm afraid I underestimated how long it would take for me to double back around—"

"—and seriously, another ten seconds and I would've been swiss cheese!"

"—and then I admit I wasn't counting on having to subdue the other perpetrator downstairs." Fraser hurries behind Ray and begins working on the knots on his hands.

"Really, Benny, you're slipping," Ray grouses, but there's an undercurrent of warmth in his voice.

"Duly noted," Fraser replies easily as he finishes untying the ropes, and his mouth turns up at the corners. "I'll consider myself reprimanded."


End file.
